Sirius Black: The Hag's Hex
by inVale
Summary: Courtyard brawls, dangers in the forest, malevolent familial bullies. Why? Because Sirius isn't an ordinary wizard, he's a Black!
1. Black Beginnings

Mr. and Mrs. Black, of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, were proud to say they were perfectly magical, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything mundane or muggle, because they simply didn't stand for such filth.

Orion Black was officially unemployed but unofficially spent much of his time making money through means best unexposed to examination. He was tall man whose stretched skin seemed too small for his body, with his nose always upturned as if he had smelled something foul. Walburga Black was thin and short with long black hair perpetually done up in a severe black bun, giving her a near comical appearance of a vulture. She was normally to be found ordering about the family house elf, twisting her pliable wand in her hands and gossiping. More than anything, the lady of a well established family had to protected the prestige and eminence of her family.

The Blacks had two young sons, Sirius and Regulus though they rarely acknowledged the existence of the former. The younger son could often be found about the house, shadowed by the family elf as he organized Chocolate Frog Cards and skimmed down the halls on his toy broomstick while shouting merrily. His older brother in turn would be found in the attic at the top of the stairs which played home to a large circular window that peered out the clay tiles. From that vantage point, Sirius could watch the whole street and the boys that played, shouted and ran down it.

The Blacks, like most old families, held many secrets though one in particular weighed heavily on them. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out how Sirius, though as old as ten, had never once demonstrated any accidental magic. Increasingly Mr. Black couldn't help but pretend he indeed only had one son. The Blacks shuddered to think what the Malfoys or Lestranges would think if they only but knew. Increasingly they kept him away from his brother, Regulus, for fear such shame could spread through the family tree like rot.

Orion Black left the house as he did every morning, frowning as he noticed the gaggle of children playing in the grassy square that was Grimmauld Place. The ancestral house of Black loomed overhead in what was once a firmly magical community of London. The centuries had not been kind to the Wizarding community; wars, low birth rates and the firm hand of the Magic of Ministry had allowed the Wizard population to dwindle and historic Magic areas of London slowly degenerate. The houses of once magical blood now held muggles who suffered a disturbing frequency of accidents inside their homes.

He stepped inside the muggle Police Box that he had fought tooth and nail to prevent: progress could not be halted it was said, the old wizard stone rings were too archaic and out of place in modern London. It was precisely such rubbish that had the pureblood community up in arms, tired of watching their birthrights stolen and histories destroyed. With a double tap of his wand against the vividly blue back wall and a muffled crack, he was off to the Ministry.

It was a lengthy day of work, haranguing the Minister of Magic, coaxing members of the wizengamot and outright blackmailing at least one mugwump. Such painful trivialities, Orion thought, were well offset by a snide remark to Abraxas Malfoy about the muggle born inlaw he had on his wife's side.

He lunched with LeStrange who remained on good terms with You-Know-Who down in Wales. Black and LeStrange both loudly agreed that it was an outrage that anyone championing wizarding rights had to do his best to keep one's own identity out of public knowledge. While Orion Black couldn't help but agree that steps had best be taken to defend wizarding rights he also couldn't help but feel they were best taken by someone else. Perhaps it was simply the Slytherin morals he so espoused.

After passing the afternoon leisurely playing Wizarding Whist with a quartet of goblin bankers, he strode back out of his police box and onto the grounds of Grimmauld. The muggle children still played on the grass, kicking around a speckled ball in some barbaric form of sport. The sore spot that was the continued illegality of putting muggle repelling charms around his house rankled a bit deeper than usual.

As he drew closer he noticed why they had taken to playing near the house their eyes could not even find. Laughing in the crowd was the subject of Orion Black's glare, his impossibly pale face sunburned red, a dark haired boy whose shaggy hair ill-suited the prim and proper clothes he'd soiled with grass stains.

With his eyes breathing fury he parted the crowd easily, the laughter of the children falling short as he approached his son. Grabbing the hair that he had been growing out in the style of his uncle Alphard he ignored the protests as he marched towards Twelve Grimmauld Place. Some boys would later swear that the door of it actually banged open before the man ever reached it, as if by some unknown force; others were uncertain if they had entered house 11 or 13. The gloomy hallway they entered was much like the owner himself: immaculate, darkly dressed and mirthless.

"Kreacher!" The man roared. Before he even finished, the house elf appeared with a crack beneath the row of heads he so resembled, trembling before the rage of his master. The Elf's crooked mouth sat sharply below his bulbous mouth, sputtering with jumbled excuses.

"What was the boy doing outside of the house?" The man demanded.

"The young master-"

"Scissors, now!" he roared, as if insulted that the elf dared to provide the excuse he had asked for.

The house elf trembled further at the punishment in store for him but left diligently. Orion Black let his son go as his wife entered the the hallway. Shorter and somehow even thinner than her husband the ire in her eyes shone even brighter.

"The boy" he croaked "was out crawling in the mud with a pack of muggle children." The woman said nothing at first but merely glared at the boy who had backed himself against the nearest wall.

"If he wishes to act like a muggle, carry on like a muggle and defame the House of Black I shall treat him like a muggle." The man spat before grabbing his son and moving to the drawing room.

Every bit as dark as the hallway, one large wall of the room was dominated by the enormous family tree. "The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black" was inscribed at the top. It was where the man brought his sons to be punished and shamed before their many ancestors. Decorated in a dark green and silver decor, all natural light to the room was stamped out by heavy curtains.

"Sit." The man said to his son after conjuring a familiar wooden foot stool in front of the tapestry. With another crack the terrified house elf appeared in the room even as Walburga Black swept inside the room.

"As a squib" his father began "you should grow accustomed to the ways of muggles." With that, the man grabbed his son's hair and nearly pulled him out of the chair as he lifted the dark strands. Taking the scissors with one snip after another he sawed through the hair. As it fell to the floor the only sounds were of the boy's sobs and the steady snipping from the furious man.

When all that was left was a head of mismatched short lengths the man relented. No longer thundering his face returned to disdain. Orion swept from the room without a glance at his wife, treading the familiar stairway to his private study. The marriage of Orion and Walburga quite matched their appearances - cold, dark and unwelcoming.

"Kreacher! Take the child to his room" She hissed before her frown deepened. "No, take him to the broom cupboard under the stairs and lock it. The muggle loving freak needn't a room unto himself like a proper Black"

The broom cupboard was hidden beneath the stairs in the foyer where the young Sirius Black could smell the house elf cooking food that was out of reach for the famished boy. It was also near enough to the dining room that he could hear the muted discussion at the family table at which he was most certainly not welcome. And at long last, the creaky 7th stair on the case as the Blacks went to bed, leaving one son in darkness.

It was there, between the prototype Comet that had been a gift and the Cleansweep won at a Wizard's Gala that Sirius Black was found the next morning. But where his mangled hair had been was the long, gleaming hair that he had been growing out, his first act of accidental magic.

The result was near magical itself; the privileges that had slowly been lost to Sirius over the years came flooding back: the endless gifts of toys and treats, showcased by his parents at every possible event. Other than returning outside to play with the muggle children he had attempted to befriend, no misdeed was worth more punishment than a wink and encouragement not to be caught.

But try as he might, he couldn't forget. The mangled hair and the locked broom cupboard, the hissing and degradations. Being ignored and hidden from the sight of guests and being unwanted. Perhaps most of all, he couldn't forget how Regulus, the favourite for a few short years, was returned to being a tiresome burden, a spare. Loyalty was cheap indeed in the house of Black.

**Author Commentary:**

This chapter is, clearly enough, a true beta work. Originally it was to be published along with my co-author, Corruo. He, sadly, has vanished leaving me rather at a miss. So after a great deal of waiting I'm pushing ahead alone. Obviously there are some parts of the writing I find rather difficult, including dialogue. With this in mind, there's a distinct possibility a large amount of this will be re-written, though I promise to make a note in the most recent chapters if that happens and chapters must be changed.


	2. Scarlet Settings

The sun rose over Number Twelve Grimmauld place in much the usual way. Less usual than the house where even the shadow was unplottable was the foolish looking wand waving going on inside the drawing room. Standing before a long case made of an indiscernible dark wood was Sirius Black. Inside the case gleamed wand after precious wand, dark and polished in an organized row above nameplates labeling each one a Black heirloom. Here and there a wand bore multiple names where a wand had been used over generations.

Sirius felt far more foolish than even the strange patterns he drew in the air as he began to desperately pluck wand after wand from the case to no effect. Not with the mahogany wand of Phineas Nigellus nor even the burnish oak wand of Sirius Black II - his great-grandfather produced a glimmer of magic no matter what he tried or how often he retried.

"Try like this Sirius!" Regulus said loudly as he flicked the wand of Charis Black to produce a long stream of silver sparkles. Sirius couldn't bear to look over his shoulder to where his father quietly sat, somehow managing to loom even when out of sight. Feeling the pinpricks of heat sneak up the back of his neck he desperately grabbed a light grey wand belonging to some great aunt of his second cousin and whirled it about wildly to precisely no effect.

He could just imagine his father deciding maybe it was Reglus' magic that grew his hair back or that any wizard who was refused by the wands of his ancestors had no right to magic at all. That maybe his father was right and sneaking out of the house to play with muggles really could make a fellow less of a wizard, less magical.

"It is far from unusual" Orion Black said instead. Sirius glanced back to see him wave his hand airily before grabbing his silver pocket watch from his waist coat. "The wand chooses the wizard. If every wand was so compliant we'd not have so many ancestral ones for you to smudge."

While Sirius couldn't help but feel mollified he noticed Regulus was glowering as his moment to shine slipped back away. No longer the target of his father's sparing praise and his mother's endless social grooming the younger brother had let slip his affections for the older sibling.

Sirius barely managed to get his fingers clear of the case as he quickly tired to polish his fingerprints from the wand before it floated back below the family tree to rest on green velvet. He noticed however his brother sliding away something up his sleeve.

"Father! Regulus still has one!" While hardly his finest moment Sirius couldn't help but feel a small taste of justice would do much to balance out his brother's showboating.

"While your powers of observation do so astound, your brother has demonstrated both magical talent and dominion of that wand."

"But Father! He's not allowed any magic, the ministr-"

"Who is master in the House of Black, boy? Fudge or myself?" The tall man hissed as he rose. "If you had taken it upon yourself to demonstrate half the proclivity towards magic as your brother you might have had one as early as he." Finished with his reproaches Orion strode for the drawing room door.

"We must make for Diagon Alley promptly lest you have decided you've no need for a wand at all," Orion continued as he made for the fireplace in the main. He removed the lid from a large pot on the mantle before stepping back as the fire place roared to life at his unspoken command.

"Do remember your lesson on articulation. It would not bode well for you to misspeak on the Floo like a half-civilized mudblood and appear somewhere else," he continued, stepping back to regard his sons with steeled eyes.

"Am I coming too, Father?" Regulus asked hopefully.

"Have you grown too good for Charis' wand so swiftly?" Orion asked quietly. Sirius was never certain if it was worse when their father displayed their disapproval openly or when he carried it softly like this. His father's praise rarely lasted before giving back to condemnation.

He had no desire to discover if Regulus would take the bait on the loaded question, instead grabbing a too large pinch of floo powder and shouting for Diagon Alley at the green flames. He all but ran into the cavernous firepit, below the gargoyle decorated mantle. The room began to spin rapidly, as if he were sitting on the spinning top he had traded for with a muggle boy.

Feeling lightheaded after the rushing travel of the Floo, Sirius nearly stumbled into the little wizard selling single use floo powder packages for a few knuts. After apologizing profusely and righting himself he moved out of the way as the fires behind him burst green to allow Orion to stride out as calmly as if he had used the front door.

Not stopping to check on his son, he began to make his way down the bustling street. Sirius struggled to keep up with him wide-eyed. Though from a wizarding family long and pure his embarrassing lack of magical demonstrations and the hard work of house elves had made trips to Diagon Alley a rare treat.

Though only the start of summer the weather was bright and warm. Consequently Diagon Alley was crammed with street vendors of every variety in addition to the regular shops. Hawking everything from potion ingredients at 'deeply discounted prices' and special poultices "Guaranteed to keep muggles from coming within 20 feet!" to broomsticks. One street vendor stood before a series of heavily enchanted display cases filled with staves and swords which he claimed to be cored with only the finest by a master wandmaker on continental Europe.

A street performer turned himself into a glimmering illusion of a Chimera while young witches and wizards clapped and cheered. A tall and lean wizard waved around a pamphlet he claimed contained multiple spells of his own devising that would make Wizarding House Care easier than a House Elf could.

Wearing cloaks of the darkest black and masks stood a group apart from all others. Not selling goods nor services Sirius was curious if they were in fact street performers of some mass group illusion. As his Father grew closer to them on the way to a wand store he noticed they too handed out pamphlets. Scrawled not with spells, the pamphlets advocated the disruption of The Statute of Secrecy and such slogans as 'Wizardkind- Rise Up!". A surly looking man stood kitty corner to them, eyeing them warily.

One of the masked men approached them as they walked by, shoving a pamphlet at Sirius and bowing low to his father after shaking his hand. "Always a pleasure Mr. Black, always a pleasure," the masked man said over and over in his gravelly voice. Sirius shoved the pamphlet deep inside his dress robes as he struggled to keep up with the pace of his father.

Sirius wanted to ask who he men were and what they were doing but knew better. His father didn't approve of questions. The men could not have seemed any more out of place, even in the truly magical shops of Diagon Alley. Yet even so, they attracted mixed attention with some wizards grinning as the strutted by them and others firmly looking aside.

His father glared away a man hawking magically enchanted muggle toys, including an elephant that sang and some mouse in red overalls, as he finally moved towards a dingy shop near the end of the road. With lettering to peeled to read Sirius only knew the nature of the destination from the faded pillow that held a wand in the dusty window.

The gloom of the inside matched his expectations but it was the smells that caught Sirius off guard. The store smelled of polishes and woods beneath the veneer of dust. He could almost taste the scents that he could only assume were from magic itself, wand cores and the memories of a thousand witches and wizards finding their own pair. It was hard to contain his excitement and harder still to contain his sneezes.

A luminous pair of eyes shone out from behind one of the sets of shelves, littered in boxes that Sirius simply knew were stacked with wands of every variety. The discomfort of worrying that no wand would ever work for him melted away in the sight of so many options. He even felt a twinge of sorrow that Regulus might never know this sight, cheated as he was with an old wand from a long dead relation.

"Orion Black, I see. Eight and a Half Inches, Hawthorn with a Dragon Heartstring. Quite rigid," the old man said as he snuck out from behind the shelf, holding out his hand. Sirius was amazed at the audacity, asking to hold another wizard's wand. He was even more shocked when his father promptly produced it.

"Yes, yes... I see you keep it in excellent shape, well polished. Most unusual to have a Black come into my shop as prone as you are to recycle those of our ancestors," the man continued as he peered now at Sirius. "Most unusual indeed to have two in successive generations."

Sirius had never felt more enlivened to hear his father too had been unable to find a neatly matched pair from the Ancestral Wands. Perhaps that is why his normally strict reaction to breaking tradition had been so lax earlier, knowing that a wizard might not always have a choice no matter how pure their blood. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the floating series of tape measures that were circling around his head.

"Wand Arm?"

"Right, Sir."

"Date of Birth?" The old man asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Er, October 16th 1959, Sir," Sirius said hesitantly, not entirely understanding why it mattered.

"I trust, young Black, that you are purchasing this wand now to avoid crowds rather than with any intentions to in fact use a wand that you obtain from this shop?"

"I know the law Ollivander," Orion interrupted, waving his hand airily. "And it is hardly your place to enforce it by denying wands to wizards, even those who are underage."

"Of course, of course," said the man who must have been Ollivander as the tape measure floated between his nostrils "Wait here."

Ollivander returned first with a long wand of black wood with dragon heartstring like his father's, producing no effect. The next wand was a much shorter wand of dark grey, Unicorn Hair. When the wand boxes piled up to a half dozen Ollivander smiled for the first time Sirius had seen.

"Ivy, fifteen inches with phoenix feather. A tricky wand," he said simply taking the box off a light brown wand with an unusually square handle. Sirius snatched it up apprehensively only to feel a nearly burning heat in his arm. When he waved his arm about in fear it was hurt he could only watch in awe as the red and green sparks gushed forth from the tip to the sound of Ollivander's clapping.

"Take care with that wand young Mr. Black. Lengthy ivy wands can be most temperamental if a spell is not performed with accuracy," Ollivander said with a thin lipped smile. "But most rewarding if used well."

Sirius barely noticed as his father paid the man and moved to go, so enraptured as he was by the magical wood in his hand. The ivy gleamed even in the dull light and when viewed from certain angles the unusually square handle seemed almost to have writing lightly scratched into the side. It took his father's loud cough to encourage him to stow it back inside the box that Ollivander insisted they use due to his underage status.

Without a glance at his father, Sirius stripped the wand from the box, slid it inside his sleeve as his father would and kicked the empty box into the narrow gap between two stores with a grin. He noticed that even Orion Black seemed more light hearted despite his typically tight fisted views on 'whittling away the family fortune'.

"What's going on, Father?" Sirius asked despite himself, looking at the crowd that was forming down the winding path of Diagon Alley. Orion merely narrowed his eyes and strode off, pushing his way into the tightly bunched crowd to the shouting beyond it as Sirius tagged behind.

Shouting at and staring down the men in black robes and masks was a young man with strawberry blond hair who had gone quite red in the face. Though he hadn't grabbed it, his hand was unmistakably near his sleeve where his wand was sure to be hidden. For their part, the masked men grouped together behind their spokesman whose gravelly voice he recognized as the man who had shook his father's hand.

"You can rattle on 'bout blood purity all ye want, ain't made half of ye bette' wizards now 'as it? Bunch o' cowards, hidin' behin' masks and preachin' yer hatreds. Scared o' muggle borns 'cause they'd be twice as good as any o' ye even if they were only halfway decent!" The man roared at the masked men standing.

Sirius could barely believe it as the lone man stood against the other wizards, some of whom were now tugging at their own sleeves. Even against insurmountable odds he was unwavering. And then from within the flock of black robes a bright jet of red light shot forth at the man.

Long before it hit he whipped out his wand and the light bounced off and slammed into a nearby building. Sirius knew that no matter how fast the man was he couldn't fight against the sheer number of opponents he was up against.

First one then three more spells rocketed towards the man only to be stopped by a young woman with dark black hair in bun who ran in from the crowd with a shout. Compared to the first few spells and shouting, the moments afterwards became a pandemonium. Stunners, Disarming spells and minor jinxes flew wildly, ricocheting off shields and rocketing from wands.

In a half minute it had become impossible to tell who was in support of which side as the wild fight began, Sirius lost track of his father, only have him haul Sirius away by the back of his robes as he shielded off misaimed spells the whole way.

Then the shrill ear splitting whistle began, punctuated by loud cracks as hit wizards and aurors burst into the alley, separating the melee with deft spells. Most wizards and witches lowered their wands as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement set in. Some had no wand left to lower after disarming spells and had been in fact happily punching anyone they felt opposed them.

Right before the loud crack that was his father apparating them away to safely, Sirius seen the brave young man laying face down on the cobbles of Diagon Alley, his light hair flecked with blood.

Sirius spent the next few months trying to read bits of the Daily Prophet with a dictionary and the somewhat biased answers he could get from his mother. The young man involved in the fight was Edgar Bones, recent Hogwarts graduate. The Blood Supremacists whom he has been fighting were largely released without charges, as were most other witches and wizards who had been dragged into the fray. The fight had primarily consisted of relatively harmless spells though some witch by the name of Fletcher claimed to have been severely cursed despite claims from St. Mungo's suggesting he was in perfect health.

The few masked men who had seen charges were granted remarkable clemency that some claimed smacked of corruption. Ultimately those who had their wands checked revealed harmless jinxes. The identity of whom had fired the more dangerous spell which slashed was never discovered, presumably having left before officials arrived.

The extra months of reading were also useful for regrowing the eyebrow that Sirius had lost to his father's side-along apparition, though he was instructed not to speak of the mishap to anyone. It would be unseemly, he was informed, if his father was seen as less than perfectly competent as a Black ought to be.

He also withheld from his desire to sneak back outside and play the 'football' game he had enjoyed with the muggle children outside. He was punished for playing with muggles when they thought he was a squib, he couldn't imagine what they'd do if they caught him playing football after he was definitely the heir.

Regulus, once so kind, could no longer find a good word to say to his brother and took increasingly to the company of the house elf Kreacher Passing by the kitchen doors he could hear them whispering below as if hiding clever secrets. He couldn't help but wonder if they were plotting against him with all their subterfuge.

His Birthday came with a series of letters from relatives assuring that they would or would not be able to attend a Black family dinner. Rigid, awkward affairs Sirius dreaded them. A hair or a fork out of place was enough to send his mother into a fury that unleashed the moment the last guest was on their way.

More important to him was the thick parchment with emerald ink that confirmed his acceptance to Hogwarts, complete with a list of clothing and books. He was particularly horrified to see that the required clothing included one of those outrageous pointed hats. His father assured him that he did indeed have to wear it for general wear, to his horror.

He wondered what the family would do if his letter hadn't come, cancel on the guests or just kill him off in quiet and pretend it was an accident. Despite being close blood relations Sirius knew most of the guests only by name. Children at family dinners were not to be heard from. Sirius' late bloom into magic did nothing to encourage festivities either.

He remembered his cousins Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa faintly and couldn't forget the fear he had of their mother, Druella. His uncle Cygnus however was a soft, quiet man who spoke little. Abraxas Malfoy would be visiting with his son, Lucius. The Rosiers were sure to attend as well as the Avery clan. He wondered if some might find it odd that he barely knew most of the people who would be attending his eleventh birthday party but by pureblood tradition it was hardly remarkable. If you traced the tree in the drawing room far enough back he could find Blacks who were engaged for their birthday. Personally, Sirius would rather get a broomstick.

So as the strange guests came through the door or the fire he smiled and nodded politely no matter what they said or did until the final guest arrived quite late. Clad in heavy, traditional robes the man looked near middle aged, dark hair neatly arranged over his pallid skin. At moments the man seemed almost blurry from the corner of the eye, making him hard to look away from.

Even his father seemed nervous, unable to look away from the unexpected guest. At least he turned his eyes towards Sirius who felt a chill go through him.

"Best wishes," the man spoke quietly, "with Hogwarts, you've much to look forward to young Black. The best years of your life, I warrant."

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, bowing his head when he found himself unable to smile. Fortunately the man seemingly floated off to make conversation with the adults, leaving Sirius to his young first, second, third and beyond cousins.

"I hear you already have your wand!" Said the teenage witch he recognized as his cousin Andromeda.

'Yes, an ivy wand," Sirius said quite proudly. "Er, not that I've used it much yet."

"'Much'? At your age not at all, one would hope," she replied with a wink.

"She says that now but you should have seen her at your age, enchanting hair brushes to cut instead of comb," Narcissa interrupted with a grin. The two girls laughed at the shared merriment and wandered off. Sirius felt a cold dread pass through his stomach as he wondered how behind he must have gotten. He practiced occasionally in his room secretly when nobody was around but perhaps his parents perhaps left him with his wand in expectations of regular use.

"I wish I had a wand already," said boy Sirius age who had been introduced as Vincent Mulciber. "Parents say it's too much of a risk 'cause the of the ministry. 'Course, our house isn't unplottable like yours."

"It's not like you can learn too much on your own anyway," Sirius supplied hoping it was the truth for everyone.

"You play Quidditch?" The boy asked trying a different track.

"Mm, not really. Not much yard space and my parents won't get me a broomstick."

"Oh," he said simply, standing around awkwardly before walking away.

Sirius wondered if everyone was so hard to talk to and how he'd get along at Hogwarts if he couldn't find anything to say to anyone. Years of staying at home had left him with lots of opinions on Regulus and how the board panel in the spare bedroom would open into a little tunnel you could use to get between rooms but none of these things seemed worth talking about.

Regulus himself was happily chatting away with everyone, seemingly getting along no matter what he said. When he tried to speak with the adults he was largely brushed off. The younger cousins had no interest in his awkward attempts at conversation and so on his eleventh birthday Sirius Black found himself mostly alone.

Dinner was a lengthy affair, cooked and served by the Black family house elf and a strange one that came along with the Averys. The food seemed to be all the fancy, complicated food that he never liked but probably impressed all the guests. The tall, multi-tiered cake was an impressive arrangement, vanilla flavoured no matter how much he wished it was chocolate. He wondered if there was a spell to fix it.

The dinner itself took place in the Black family dining room where streamers of green and silver were interspersed with what appeared to be magically animated snakes. Sirius himself sat near the center of the table at the right hand of his father who quietly discussed business and politics where every argument was settled by the words "_well Mr. Riddle is of the opinion.._"

Presents afterwards was a morose affair of books, outfits of green trimmed with silver and, excitingly, a broomstick that he could not possibly fly anywhere near his own home but would be great fun at school. The books were straight from the school list as for all the family wealth, the Blacks were impossibly stingy. There was, however, one large navy blue book embossed with gold lettering proudly stating it was _The Tricksters Jinx Book - The Penultimate Source of Mischief for Marauding Wizards_ from Andromeda.

All told only one gift remained. Seated at the head of the table where his father usually sat, Mr. Riddle floated a long and narrow package down to Sirius. He tore open the paper to find a heavy brass key of no particular description.

"Use it on the hidden doorway on the back mantle of the fireplace common room. The passageway served me well in my youth, I cannot imagine it letting you down now," the odd man said with a hard smile as appreciative whispering broke out.

"That's a fine gift you've gotten," Orion said, giving him his cue to begin his appreciation.

Sirius thanked them all profusely, laying the large key down on the green and silver dress robes he had no doubts about which common room they meant. But as he looked around the cold smiling faces at the Black family dining table he wondered how much he looked forward to Hogwarts outside of being a place that wasn't here.

Across the table from him Regulus smiled especially brightly, his toothy grin hiding his resentment. Sirius wondered how many more at the table wore faces opposing their own hearts. After the guests were gone the house sat in silence again. The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, it seemed to Sirius, was a very unhappy place to be.

Between the shrieking of owls, the hollering of separated families and crash of trolleys Platform 9 3/4s must have been the most exciting place Sirius could remember outside Diagon Alley. The steam engine served as both the backdrop and focal point of the immensely busy station as poorly dressed wizards and witches did their best to blend in with the muggles beyond the archway.

His father would point out wizarding families that Sirius had read on the family tree and infrequently met. Some he lauded as having relation to the Blacks, the Gaunts or the Bulstrodes. Others he condemned as having 'rotting morals and foolish notions' as with the Browns, the Longbottoms and the MacDougals.

Most of those whom he pointed out wore the awkward clothing that Sirius and his family wore, looking oddly little like the muggles whom they attempted to dress as. The families whom his father merely sneered at, half-bloods and muggleborns managed to dress a great deal more like the people he had seen milling outside the station.

"Why must I wear this barbaric shirt, Mother," grumbled Regulus as he tugged at the high black collar that was suffocating him.

"Even we must display a perfunctory effort to blend with the muggles."

"I desire my robes returned," he simpered. "I simply cannot stand to emulate muggles. Sirius, you don't seem to mind though - is it from all those times you snuck out of the house to play with those filthy children?"

"I wonder if you'll even be able to stay at Hogwarts if you can never manage to do as you're told," Regulus continued with a smile as he tried to dampen Sirius' spirits.

"Rule Breaking is a Hogwarts tradition for the Blacks," his father said sternly as if just remember an important lecture. "Being discovered and reprimanded is not."

"Mind your speech, do not speak in a manner that is unbecoming for the family," his mother continued, breaking into a lecture.

"We shan't have you engaging in behavior that might be regarded as indecorous."

"If we hear of it, consider it both inappropriate and inopportune."

"A Slytherin is cunning and clever, never brash and unthinking."

"Be subtle."

"Watch your cousins behavior."

"But don't trust them overly Sirius. You alone are the heir to the Blacks. Ensure your success."

The mantra of the Blacks: Do whatever it takes, don't get caught and throw someone else under the carriage if things look rough. With repeated nods and a frosty farewell, he lifted his magically lightened trunk and picked a carriage entrance near the back.

Inside one of the rear cabins was a messy haired boy who had his muddy trainers up on one of the seats and a box of chocolate frogs he was starting to work through, scattering wrappers on the floor in front of him. His clothes were messy but well fit, a muggle tee with an enormous lion and blue jeans.

"It's alright, you can stay in this carriage," the boy said imperiously as if he rather owned it. "I don't mind. James Potter. Who are you?"

"Sirius."

"Catch, Sirius!" James shouted with a laugh, and hurled a chocolate frog at him. Sirius ducked into the compartment as someone shrieked behind him.

"Watch it!" A girl with elbow length red hair glared at them. "How dare yo-" she started before shrieking again.

The chocolate frog had forced its way out of the package, a slight tear in the package giving it a hope of freedom. It bounced once on her white trainers before bounding away, leaving sticky brown frogprints on her shoes. Her bright green eyes opened wide and followed it joyfully as it hopped down the train.

Sirius laughed and scooped up the fallen package, pulling out the card from within and passing it to the girl.

"Hey! That's mine!" the dark haired boy said with a grin.

"Pretty sure you forfeited it when you tossed it, mate."

"I-it moves!" the newcomer said, staring in amazement at the card. "Sev said they would but it's really something!"

"Muggleborn?" asked James.

Sirius wondered if he should leave.

"Lily Evans," she introduced herself before dragging her luggage into the compartment behind her. She started to struggle with her emerald green trunk, barely able to get it off the ground. James leaped from his seat and grabbed one end.

"Give us a hand, won't you?" James groaned. Sirius leapt in to help, struggling with the trunk that seemed weighed down with a million bricks.

"What did you leave it so heavy for?" James panted as Sirius lifted his with ease and slid it next to hers before adding "Guess muggles for parents wouldn't know how."

An awkward silence filled the compartment as they all settled in.

"Do muggleborns ever come from the same family?" Lily asked in the silence.

"Err... no," said James. "Least wise I've never heard about it.

Sirius stared at her as she turned her head to the window quietly, confident he was imagining the quiet sniffles. He wondered what his father would say about him sharing a compartment with a muggleborn witch. Probably that he should have sought ought his cousins rather than taking the first open compartment.

"I'm trying out for catcher," James spoke to the room, indifferent to who was listening. "A first year hasn't made the house team in almost fifty years, I plan to break the record."

"I have a new Shooting Star," Sirius offered up.

"Really? Do you plan to try out too? I hear they're actually considering banning brooms for first years, if you can believe it!"

The two young wizards settled into a happy rapport of conversation and Sirius felt his fears of being unable to deal with others slip away. For what seemed the first time in his life, he found himself with someone to speak to that was neither family nor a muggle. More than that, for the first time he had someone he could speak to without fear of attracting punishment from his mercurial parents.

The compartment door slid open but neither of them paid attention to the sallow skinned wizard who stepped in, already dressed in his school robes. He seemed to know Lily and the two began animated conversation though Sirius noticed her tear streaked face and he had not imagined her sniffles.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," said the boy.

"Slytherin? Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" James interrupted to ask Sirius.

"My whole family has been in Slytherin," he muttered.

"Blimey, and I thought you seemed alright!" James winked at Sirius, who couldn't help but grin back despite his returning fears.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition," Sirius said doubtfully. "Where are you headed, if you've got the choice?"

James mimed lifting an enormous sword, bellowing "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad," he added in afterthought.

The sallow skinned boy snorted.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No, if you'd rather be brawny than brainy" the boy said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither," Sirius shot back before he could stop himself.

James laughed as if nothing could be funnier, obviously pleased with his new friend. The new coming boy shot to his feet and Lily grabbed his sleeve.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

James mimed her lofty voice in a shout of amusement as the two stormed from the compartment, abandoning her luggage.

"See you, Snivellus!" Sirius shouted at their retreating backs, refusing to be left out, as James howled in amusement.

The window pane behind them revealed a stunning scenery of moors and forests. As it slowly pulled towards the highlands and lochs that Sirius had never before seen, the sunshine that ushered in the day slipped behind dark clouds.

They had rolled in unnoticed as the boys laughed and chatted, filling the sky and announcing themselves with booming flashes of lightning. By the time the Hogwarts Express rolled into Hogsmeade station the sky could barely be seen for the thick rain that hammered the train, louder than even the booms of thunder.

**Author Commentary: **

Please note me to any errors or irregularities you notice, I would appreciate it. As with earlier, it is an early sketch from my outlines. I hope it's free of contradictions both with canon and my own writing.

I was also unsure about finishing it off so dramatically, leaving the 'conflicts' in the story to only really step up next chapter. What do you say dear readers, have these two chapters been excessively dull?


	3. Hogwarts Harrow

"Foist Yers! O'er here! Don't go worrin' 'bout yer luggage neither, it'll make 's own way down, it will." Shouted a man who poked his head inside the compartment. No taller than James, his dark hair bristled with grey. A long beard tumbled below his face, looking very peculiar without a matching mustache. His eyes widened and a broad grin took his face when he saw who was inside.

"James! Ready fer that boat ride I promised yah?"

"Boat ride?" Sirius asked quizzically, having never been on a boat before in any weather much less in the storm that howled outside.

"Entirely safe!" The short man roared, seeming very keen. "Now 'urry 'long you two, big class this year."

"That's Ogg, the gamekeeper." James said with a grin. "Let's go!"

Without a backwards glance at the pile of wrappers or the half eaten frog he was leaving behind, James pulled out a school robe and hat from under his seat. Without waiting for Sirius to do the same, James hopped out of the compartment and into the rain. Sirius found himself soaked to the bone the moment he stepped foot into the downpour, chasing after James who was making his way through the sodden crowd.

Standing upright when many bent double, staggering against the wind James was easy to follow despite his small frame. While Sirius could hear James somehow still talking, words were lost over the gale. The path was lit only by flashes of lightning through which he could see a small crowd of people his age being led by an impossibly tall, burly man towards the lake.

"Three to a boat!" boomed the enormous man as the first years fought the gusts of wind to clamber into the boats which seemed to buck forth from the stormy water. James and Sirius were shortly joined by a lanky boy who nearly fell into the water as James struck a pose at the front of the boat, imagining himself some manner of sea captain.

When the last of the first years were crammed into boats and one young witch was fished from the shallow water they set out. Ogg the Gamekeeper led the procession across the lake, boats sometimes hovering in midair as the crested waves only to slam back down into the water. Perhaps they should have felt relieved to see the enormous man who required his own boat following carefully behind but only James seemed without fear.

A flash of lightning struck down on the lake only just in front of them, revealing a monster fresh from a nightmare. A truly enormous tentacled monster writhed in pain from the bolt of lightning. A maroon tendril rose forth from the water and smashed down with a deafening bang as the squid lashed out against the invisible attacker.

From where the tentacle landed, an enormous wave sprung up, higher still than all others that had yet battered their boat. It lifted them high above the water and as they fell breathlessly back down, Sirius saw in horror that the boat now only had two passengers. The pale faced boy who had been unable to introduce himself over the rain, was gone.

Sirius searched frantically in the darkness for a dark robed boy in black water, struck with a terrible sense of dread. Then he saw him, out of the wave one minute, flailing around in his heavy robes and gone again as the next wave washed over them.

A bright red stream of sparks jumped forth before his eyes as James Potter, hair impossibly stuck out at angles even when soaking wet, jumped into the water with his wand raised to the sky. Splashing about with only one free arm, he was dragged into the next wave with the pale faced boy. They both emerged back out, James still firing sparks off into the sky as they clung together in the storm.

Sirius lunged to the side of the boat, throwing out his arm towards the two boys. The boat lurched in the roil, leaving him breathless when the edge collided with his midsection, toppling his school hat into the water. Gasping, he forced his arm out further to James. But it was too late, the boys were ripped even further away by another gale.

Sirius watched in horror as a great arm reached forth from the monster, wrapping the two boys like a great constrictor. The arm snapped tight, dragging its prey deep into the water. Dangling over the edge, Sirius was knocked to the giant puddle that was the bottom of the boat when the tentacle exploded forth from the water. He clenches his eyes tight as the arm came back for more prey.

Only with two gentle thuds and desperate coughing, Sirius opened his eyes to see that the squid had not snatched the waterlogged duo for a snack but rather as their savior. Maybe the Giant Squid was placed in the lake for the benefit of the students or maybe it had realized its tantrum had imperiled them. The boat sped on through the gale and the storm as if never noticing its cargo had left and returned.

Even James no longer seemed excited as the three boys tried to shout hoarsely at each other over the wind and thunder. Between the rain and the water dripping off their robes from the swim, there seemed to be almost as much water inside of their boats as outside it. So terrified of the poor weather, soaked and miserable, that they did not even notice the sight they lay above them until the boat thudded against the wooden dock.

Scrambling over each other out of the boat and in through a massive wooden door that stood open before them, the boys escaped the elements. The crowd of students left puddles of water all throughout the warm chamber they entered into, water pouring out of their shoes and hoods. Nearly half of them had lost their pointed black hats in the confusion and some gibbered excitedly while others seemed quietly stunned by the arduous journey that had preceded their very first day of school.

"Hell were you thinkin'? Jumpin' into the bloody lake!" Blazed Ogg, cutting a way through the crowd to get to the trio.

"Ne'er in all mah years! Students goin' in, yeh. Boats capsizin', once! But jumpin' in, madness Potter, madness!"

James finally looked sheepish. Sirius could never have imagined such a thing. James wore muggle clothing beneath his robes. James would leap into a sea in a storm for a stranger. James seemed knew everyone but the face of fear.

And despite feeling like a wet cat, Sirius knew he had finally seen what he wanted. A life that wasn't thick drapes to keep out the light, that wasn't stuffy fireside chats about the shame of Godric's Hollow being 'integrated' or even stuffy, proper appearances. If this was the brave at heart, Sirius though watching James make excuses for himself to Ogg, then he wanted nothing more than to be there.

After Ogg had finally waved James off, he strode through a small side door, slipping through the students while his enormous associate barred the entrance against the gale.

"Say! Er... just who are you?" James asked, just realizing they had never managed to introduce themselves.

"P-peter Pettigrew," the pale boy said, his pointed face awash with joy.

"Pettigrew? Percy Pettigrew's kid?"

Sirius wondered if James had met everyone by this point. Gregarious, affable and friendly, James seemed to have charmed and shook hands with everyone in the entire wizarding world while Sirius sat in the attic, watching it pass by him. Not for the first time, he slowly felt a little inadequate next to his bold companion.

"Y-yes," He squeaked "the Auror, not the writer. That's my Great Uncle."

The rest of Peter's introduction was cut short when the side door was forced to admit a portly, balding man with a gingery mustache and an impossibly hideous emerald waistcoat. Each button had a different coloured snake, glinting with tiny gemstones for eyes. He stepped gingerly and comically around the puddles before clearing his throat loudly.

"Right! I am Professor Slughorn, the Potions Master and Head of House Slytherin! Oh hello Rosier, yes it's a pleasure to see you," he found himself quickly distracted with introducing himself to a smattering of students he seemed personally acquainted with.

"Each of you shall be sorted into your individual houses here shortly! A lucky few may even qualify for Slytherin. Your house is to be your family, your triumphs and disgraces will reflect upon them and your deeds may so echo for all eternity! Mostly on a placard upon the House Cup, which I am sure you will all strive to earn. Well, on through the door then, line up sharply now! Alphabetically if you can, save us all a spot of bother," he muttered on, waving them through the narrow door.

He seemed far more intent on meeting students he recognized then on keeping them in order. Some he seemed well acquainted with and greeted with personal details such as Bagman and Olivander. Others he seemed to know only by ordaining their family.

"Oh yes, a Black! I did hear you were going to be starting this year, most excellent. I have a fine number of your cousins in my house this year and I simply cannot wait to have you and Regulus round out the collection, eh?

"Uhh, yeah," Sirius said, feeling very awkward as the large man chortled and waved at James.

"You'll have to join my little Slug Club as I call it! No worries, it's just a name! But on you go, not much more important than a Sorting boys."

The entrance to the Great Hall snapped him back to reality in the way only a few thousand floating candles beneath the stormy night sky could. It was magnificent. Hundreds of voices cheering and jeering as the first years lined up before the raised table at the front. Stretched before them were the hundreds of students that would be Sirius Black's life.

The Ravenclaws seemed somewhat dour, he noticed. Quiet and unpresuming they watched with guarded eyes and whispers. The Hufflepuffs however laughed and cheered at everything, red faced and excitedly whispering. The Slytherin table, perhaps it was just his imagination, seemed unwelcoming with their harsh whispers and jeers. It was also filled with the dinner guests from his party, even Andromeda who seemed to be waving.

The severe looking witch who had lectured them as they entered pulled forth a rickety stool and a tattered, moldy looking sort of hat that Sirius could have found a dozen of in his attic. In fact, he believed some great-great-aunt had left just such an outdated hat in the storage closet on the third floor. Just as he watching and wondering what he could possibly need such a tattered hat for when he couldn't stand the new and crisp one he was forced to wear, it burst out into a rather peculiar song about each of the houses that Sirius could barely hear all the way at the back.

The witch who introduced herself as McGonagall called forth the first person on the list, the unfortunately named Bagman, Otto. Watching closely for any help he could get, he watched him sit on the rickety wooden stool and, of all things, place the hat on his own head in lieu of his own school required black hat that he somehow kept through the storm. Then waited for a second, then two, then three.

"Hufflepuff!" Roared the hat at last. The boy scurried off to a table festooned with black and yellow. McGonagall read of the name next on the list - his own.

He made the long way up the line to the spotlight as the enchanted sky above swirled great thunderclouds that flashed lightning and even boomed thunder. He turned to face the crowd on the stool and plopped the hat down over his head. Unnerving as it could be to sit in front of the whole school it was somehow worse when they were all watching him as he was in darkness.

"Oh, a Black," echoed a voice from behind his ear "Never a shortage of you lot is there. Always trying to convince me into dropping them into Slytherin Plenty of cunning in you too, no doubt."

He found himself clenching his hands into fists and desperately thinking _It's not what I want!_

"Cunning, resourcefulness. I see you've sold out little Regulus before. A Slytherin true and though, eh? What would proud, proud Orion say?"

_It's not what I want! _Sirius shouted inside his head again. By this time his Sorting seemed to have taken twice as long as it had for the boy before him.

"You want to go elsewhere for the community do you, a Hufflepuff maybe? But then, striking out on your own takes courage young Black. To step away from everything you know for the sake of what you believe in. The courage of a true Gryffindor!"

Hearing the last word roared the room, Sirius whipped off the hat and stared at the faded and torn fabric, shocked to see it actually wink at him. Two of the four tables clapped politely, confused by the extreme length of his sorting. If the Slytherin tabled seemed appalled, it was nothing to the faces the Gryffindors were making. Grabbing but refusing to wear his ugly black hat, Sirius walked down to the table as the first new Gryffindor and stared at the horrified faces of his new House.

Now that his choice was made, he slowly felt the reality slip back down on him. Ravenclaw his parents would have disliked but understood. Hufflepuff would have made him the family disappointment, already considered half a squib. But Gryffindor was a nightmare, the cold shiver down his spine was likely his parents already blasting him off the family tree. He would have to change his name, perhaps leave the school and become a traveling warlock. He was certain he could get a few galleons for his broom, maybe learn magic on the run.

When he tried to shift to the side to let the red haired girl from earlier take a seat, she promptly turned her back to him and crossed her arms. Sirius got the feeling he was going to be getting a lot of cold shoulders and should probably get used to the treatment. He ran to escape a table full of hidden hostility for a better unknown and somehow wound up at a table of open hostility. Between his parents, Slytherin cousins and house mates, he suspected he'd be lucky to make it to Christmas.

The boy with mousy brown hair made it to Gryffindor but sat away from him, near a boy with light brown hair who was steadfastly ignoring him. Potter made it in shortly after, ruffling his dark black hair and winking everywhere, to the disgust of the red haired girl. Sirius barely noticed, staring at the wooden table and doubting the courage that got him into all this trouble.

Peter Pettigrew soon wandered over to the table but Sirius barely noticed, running his troubles through his mind. James actually sat next to him and thumped him on the back before immediately turning to a crowd of familiar faces. He looked up and noticed that Severus Snapes friend hadn't made it to Slytherin either, instead sitting across from him.

After the sorting finished, a man from the head table rose who could only be Albus Dumbledore. Festooned in bright mauve robes depicting lime green showering stars he made an impressive sight with his long beard, auburn and streaked with white, if not a particularly colour coordinated one. He waved a hand and the room fell to quiet.

"Welcome to our new arrivals! I'm sure you'll give us many more pleasant surprises such as we've already seen. Welcome back to returning students! Your professors will be delighted to once more guide you through the murky waters of education. On this very topic, please say hello to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, the Honourable Sir Roland Cauterwaul de Bayard!"

The students clapped appreciatively as tall, elegant looking man with a thin, drooping mustache rose and bowed deeply. He wore elegant silks of pastel colouration and plumed cap, the feather of which had dripped into his chalice, flicking drops of elfwine when he straightened. His long, black hair was curled into long ringlets which gleamed in the candlelight.

"Now, I have decided to forgo the Hogwarts song this year in favour of getting directly to eating, I'm told there's treacle!" With a clap of his hands, the tables creaked under the weight of the immense amount of food now filling the golden platters on each table, which Professor Dumbledore wasted no time in eating from directly.

Sirius took the more sophisticated approach of putting the food on his plate first as James imitated Dumbledore and proceeded to pick right at the platter. For some, it was a welcome meal after a long day of travel. For others, a final course after a long day of trolley sweets. For Sirius, it felt like a last meal.

"I can't believe you're eating like that! Have the decency and respect to put it on your place first," the red haired girl shouted at James.

"'Ook, i' all goe' 'he same place"

"You're disgusting," she said, turning her head away, revolted.

"Surprising to see you here. I'm Gideon Prewett, half a prefect," an older boy introduced himself from down the table.

"Half a prefect? How can you be half?" James asked, not bothering to look up from his meal.

"Because, young Potter, I'm the other half," said a stern voice from the other side of Gideon. "Twins you see. I'm Fabian, Dumbledore couldn't give it to just one of us so he split it. So now you lucky rotters get 3 Gryffindor Prefects this year."

"Wouldn't that be one and two halves?" The boy next to Peter chipped in.

"Same difference, you're Remus Lupin aren't you? McGonagall wanted a word with you after the Feast."

"'Ow you in 'rouble a'ready 'oopin?"

"My mother is very ill and was undergoing treatment today, I'm sure the Professor wishes to discuss the matter with me in privacy."

"You sure like your big words don't you?" James asked with a grin before finally shoveling food onto his plate instead of his mouth.

"No you great berk, it's just that if brains were money you'd not have a pair of knuts to rub together," Lily opined.

"Oi! Prefects?"

"I didn't hear anything wrong with that, what about you, Gideon?"

"Not a word out of line Fabian, not a word."

James grumbled and continued to spoon food from the platter up until the moment it disappeared as the feast ended. Dumbledore stood up once more to round out the feast.

"As a few cursory notes go for the start of the term, no magic is to be performed in the corridors between classes. After a troublesome incident involving an aged tome, a hinkypunk and the Giant Squid library books are no longer to be removed from inside the castle except when transported directly to classes. Additionally the Forbidden Forest remains strictly Forbidden. All students are advised to avoid both the forest and the rather untimely death that it may bring. Trot on then!"

The crowd of Gryffindors followed Gideon and Fabian, through the enormous doorway flanked by oaken doors and up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall with Sirius lagging at the end, staring at his feet. Down corridors and through tapestries and over trick flagstones, disappearing stairs and around a suit of armour that appeared to be out for a walk. Once they even had to walk through a row of ghosts, bathing them in a feel of ice as the muggleborns gasped and pointed.

It was one such suit of armour that swung its enormous claymore, the gleaming edge of the blade seeming razor sharp a scant few centimeters from Sirius' nose. Over the blade he watched his fellow Gryffindors march on, chatting merrily and pointing out tapestries before a tall wizard whose blonde hair was nearly as long as Sirius' own stepped out from behind the armour.

"What a perfectly entertaining letter I will have to write to my father," the older boy said with a smile.

"Evening Lucius, are you coming up to join Gryffindor too?" He asked, with significantly more glib than he felt, as the last Gryffindor student turned into what appeared to be a solid stretch of stone up ahead.

"Oh not at all, not at all," Lucius spoke, slowly and softly as he started to walk around Sirius. "As Slytherin Prefect, I'm ensuring no rules are being broken. Like being outside of dormitories after hours. Two Points from Gryffindor"

Sirius felt his stomach drop. He knew he was going to catch all kinds of hate from his extensive Slytherin family but he had never imagined that they would go after him like this. He had seen the wary looks the Gryffindors were giving him already and was sure things would get far worse when they noticed he was costing them points.

"I guess it's not entirely surprise you'd not qualify for Slytherin. It's hard to be ambitious or cunning when you're a hop skip away from, well, being a squib."

Lucius raised his wand up towards Sirius, aiming it directly at his face as he grinned.

"Perhaps the words 'Blood Traitor' might do you some good. Teach you a little something about loyalty. Would you rather it in pimples or cuts?"

A piercing shriek rang out, forcing Lucius to stash his wand and glance about guiltily, thinking he'd been spotted. But rather the shrieker was nowhere to be seen. Sirius ran to a nearby window and peered out to see if the voice had come from out on the yard but quickly decided that nobody would have sounded so loud from the ground all the way up on a sixth floor corridor.

"Well," Lucius started to say before, with a bang, Gideon the Prefect dropped from the ceiling, landing on Lucius shoulders. Jumping to his feet, he glanced around before his eyes settled on Sirius.

"You got a right set of pipes on you Itty Bitty Black. Now don't tell me our dear, beloved cousin Lucius had you screaming like that?"

"I've not touched a hair upon him!" Refuted Lucius, going quite pink in anger. "And you ought to look before you leap."

"Get off it, Malfoy. Prefects can't deduct points from other prefects so take it to someone who cares. Let's go Shrieker, try not to get lost again or you might end up having more family reunions," Gideon said, picking out the last two words with much tact.

With that, he grabbed Sirius shoulder and propelled him forward, snorting at his assertions that Sirius had in fact, not been the one who had been screaming. When they eventually reached the top of the Gryffindor Tower to an enormous portrait of a portly woman.

"Already out after hours? You had better not cost us our winning streak at the house cup," chided the Fat Lady.

"The password is Consillio et Animis," spoke the Prefect and the portrait hole swung open with a huff.

The room into which Sirius stepped seemed stuck somewhere between a rustic hunting lodge and an enormous balcony. Some sort of powerful magic must have held the rain and wind at bay, for though he was looking out at the storm and over the Hogwarts grounds the air was still and dry. Even from a distance, the view was clearly a commanding presence over the school, facing towards a dim series of lights that he imagined must have been Hogsmeade.

The room was stuffed with large chesterfields, comfy looking chairs, an odd series of hammocks and even some long tables at which one could work at. In the center of it all was an enormous open air fireplace. Above it on the ceiling sat the fixture of roaring lion's head, facing towards the smoldering embers as if belching them out when in fact it seemed to be functioning as something of a chimney.

"Is the wall, like the ceiling in the Great Hall?"

"Not like the Great Hall," said Gideon with a laugh. "Trust me, Fabian chucked one of my wizard chess pieces over the ledge last year after a particularly close match. Never did find it and the substitute pawn has never fought with quite the same vigor. Seems whatever magic it has only keeps things out, not in."

At Gideon's direction, Sirius made his way up one of the two spiral staircases set in the back, winding all the way nearly to the top before finding a door that had his name engraved onto a plaque along with three others, he made his way in quietly, found the only empty bed and fell asleep immediately, still wearing his damp school robes.

**Authors note _**

So there you have it, things are starting to pick up! I'm wondering if it was a poor choice to leave the first and second chapters as two separate ones instead of a larger combined one. For those curious, Sirius Black is intended to slowly develop into the person he is shown to be in the main series, character development of a sort.

Despite the relative shortage of names given in this chapter, especially with the sorting, I'm planning out about one hundred students for Sirius' year, 25 or so per house. I'm in the midst of fleshing them out while still fitting in with the universe canon though obvious not all of them will get much time in the limelight.

As with the main series, there will be a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for every year. Not all of them will be wholly crucial to the story though they will all be detailed. And right now I'm aiming for a chapter a week, though I will need to slow down after the first year is done to flesh out my outline for year two in greater detail.

Questions, Comments, Concerns?


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